


phil and the beanie patrol

by corgisocks



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Crack Fic, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Humour, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phan - Freeform, WE'LL SEE WHAT HAPPENS I GUESS, as in phil is a ROCK STAR, badfic, band au, dan is...someone., eventually tho. like idek if it could be classified as 'lovers', starts off w canon and goes off into an au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-26 14:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15664695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corgisocks/pseuds/corgisocks
Summary: When a terrible mishap occurs on behalf of the people who run Youtube, Dan and Phil are forced to find a new job. Long road trips, strange discoveries, and major catastrophes ensue.updates whenever the heck i feel like updating, damn it.





	1. 1. Holy Shit, It's Gonna Be a Day

**Author's Note:**

> this is me forcing myself to write. there will be no editing or planning of any kind even though i've been planning to write this for months now; that doesn't count. abrupt changes in writing style are to be expected, as are obnoxious so-called witticisms. i hate writing, especially when i end up filling it with obnoxious so-called witticisms, thereby annoying myself into a state of utmost self-pity.
> 
> that being said...enjoy, i guess. ahhahahahahhahahhahahaaaaa. ha.

It was a morning when  _It_  happened. Specifically, though,  _It_  was a Day.

This--having a Day--is not actually as foreign a concept as one may think it is. Everyone except for one person on the entire Earth has Days. Daniel Radcliffe has had Days. Jesus Christ had Days, probably, back in the lowercase day. Heck, even Kanye has Days. He calls them Deezys, probably. And fucking hell, those Deezys. They suck. Lowercase days suck, too, but Days put them to shame. Dan would know. Dan, believe it or not, has had his fair share of days.

Days happen often for Daniel James Howell. They especially tend to happen when Dan is woken up early by a certain bird-nosed weirdo named Phil. Phil is always there, and therefore, Dan always has Days. From what Dan has observed, however, Phil does not seem to have Days. It is as though he was put through some shady Day-Negating Therapy as a child and has since, as such, never had a single Day. He doesn’t even have Days in the mornings like the normal people of the world do; in fact, he is so unaffected by that dreadful time of day that he probably forgets that Dan has Days whenever he is woken up too early. This happens often. Early. Every day--every Day, actually. And very, very often. He’s practically used to it by now. Every day for the past eight years has been a Day.

One would think that Dan had experienced too many Days to be able to give a shit about a specific Day. He probably hadn't been able to for a good while, anyway. Days were days, and days were Days. There had been no telling them apart for a while there.

But then there came a Day. This one specific Day.

A Day which had been a Day to end all Days. And man, was it a day.

***

Dan had woken up to the sound of furious typing.

Now, this probably does not sound even remotely significant, but it is. It is, in fact, very significant. He is used to waking up to a twangy Northern shout of, “Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” “rise and shine, rathead,” or “rise and shine, mophead”. Or any kind of head Phil happened to be thinking of on a given morning, really, as long as there was an over-exaggerated “rise and shine” preceding it. But this morning, there were no heads. Typing was not a head. Typing had never been a head and probably never would be, because that'd make no sense, and heads were encouraged to make sense.

Therefore, there were no heads. Which was concerning.

The lack of a head was a concern to Dan for many reasons. One, it meant that Phil was probably using a computer instead of waking Dan up, which would be highly alarming because nothing of that sort had ever happened over the past decade, and Phil was a sucker for consistency. Two, it meant that Phil may have gone crazy, and that was a scarier prospect than having to deal with a normal Phil was, however scary that may be. Three, maybe something terrible had happened; like, Phil had been abducted and therefore hadn’t been able to wake Dan up or or something. And three-point-five, there having been an intruder would mean that the intruder would have to have been the one who'd been typing loudly somewhere in their house, and therefore, Dan would have to interact with the intruder, which would be the exact opposite of ideal, and what if the intruder abducted him and forced him into a tight enclosed space with Phil, because that'd be terrible, but then again, what if --

“Dan, come look!”

\--Okay, that was Phil, so options three and three-point-five were out. Crisis averted.

“DAN! GET OUT OF BED IMMEDIATELY AND COME LOOK!"

Or maybe options three and three-point-five weren't out after all. Fuck--

"...I mean, rise and shine, lazyhead! It’s five AM already!”

\--Well, holy shit, then. Phil had finally fulfilled his daily wake-up quota, but everything was weird, he was being summoned from afar, and it was still dark out.

He could already tell it was going to be a Day.


	2. Wait, What Did He Mean By 'Yet'?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and yes, less than a week later, ya boi is back with a new chapter of his weird-ass story! hooray!

The remainder of the beginning of (the beginning of) Dan’s Day was spent wallowing in self-pity regarding the situation he’d woken up to. Following the end of said beginning, Dan proceeded both reluctantly and interestedly to the living room he shared with his best bro/worst enemy, Phil. This room was likely the most lived-in in their entire household, as evidenced by the appearance of the couch and the conceivable--yet ironic, considering the state of the rest of the house--lack of dust. It felt rather home-y, which is something Dan did not like to admit to himself. He would much rather maintain the pretence that he regarded his living quarters with a particular sort of disdain.

(Don’t tell anyone about it, though. This is classified information.)

 

***

 

Upon entering his living room, Dan was struck by two things--one, its hominess, as per usual; and two, not the unusual presence of Phil himself, but the state of his hair. It looked as though 2006!Phil’s hair had been transported through space-time to the head of the Phil of the Presumed Present and had gotten electrocuted at some point during the process. It definitely suited him, and not in a good way.

“Phil,” Dan inquired--with utmost curiosity, for why wouldn’t he have done so?-- “what in Yeezy’s name happened to the dead skin cells perched atop your cranium?”

Phil, seemingly disregarding the inquiry, digressed. “Does my hair make me look like I’m a rock star?”

Initially, Dan snorted at the absurdity of Phil’s question.  _ But actually, _ Dan realised,  _ he did sort of look like a certain Bellamy, Matthew from the  _ Showbiz  _ era of his former favourite band.  _ Bellamy, Matthew was a rock star hailing from the Band of Muse whose head, at one point, had hosted a strange arrangement of seemingly-electrocuted hair follicles. But how did he know that?  _ Oh, yes,  _ he thought,  _ Google Images.  _ The following mental picture from a Google Images search entered his stream of consciousness:

_ _

_ So yes,  _ he remarked,  _ a rock star's head  _ had _ at one point hosted a strange array of hair follicles. _

Dan then compared this mentally-summoned Google Image to one he had retained from a strange video that had been published about twelve years prior:

Dan considered the images projected in his Mental Center of Imagination side-by-side, thus reaching a conclusion. He then proceeded to articulate it.

“Erm, yes,” Dan concluded thusly, articulating his conclusion, “you do kind of look like a rock star. Like how Bellamy, Matthew did during Muse’s  _ Showbiz _ era.”

“ _ And  _ me from 2006,” Phil added, “you know, when I wasn’t yet a rock star?”

Goddamn it, Phil was so self-centered. That was always apparent enough.

But wait. He wasn’t  _ yet  _ a rock star? What the hell did that mean?

“You hadn’t YET been a rock star?” Dan asked, articulating his recent ponderings in an utterly bemused fashion. “What the hell does THAT mean?”

Phil shot him an exaggeratedly dramatic glare, his head quizzically tilted at an inhumanly absurd angle.

“What?” Dan demanded.

Phil just shook his head condescendingly in spite of its unbearably odd placement. “Haven’t you heard the News?”

Fucking hell. It was a Day. Of course there would be News.

Which there now was.

And thus, it was time for Dan to mentally prepare himself.

(For the news, that is.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love muse and bellamy, matthew. my ass belongs to him now, so i hope his cameo was appreciated. i have updated the tags to include it as such.
> 
> visit me at my internet residences, if you should so desire...  
> twitter: @microarugula  
> tumblr: [@corgisocks](http://corgisocks.tumblr.com)
> 
> ...and don't forget to show me your commentussy! thanks, lads.

**Author's Note:**

> well, that's the first chapter, i guess. more coming as soon as i finish it, which probably will never happen. oh, well.
> 
> tumblr: @corgisocks  
> twitter: @microarugula


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